Gravity
by qtips rescue me
Summary: A collection of one-shots focusing on(order): Gaara(kid), Shika&Ino, Sasuke, Hinata & Neji, Tsunade, and now Sakura & Naruto. (screw the corny summary,XD)
1. Gravity

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Naruto. I don't own many things. I do, however, own this story. Copy it, and you shall die. On with it now:

_ Being a loner is not about hate, but need: We need what others dread. We dread what others need. –ditto _

**Gravity**

Everyday he swung on one of the two swings at recess.  
The right one.  
His mind was empty when he walked across the sand that added visual flavor to the ground, ignoring those around him. Interesting enough, considering a child his age would usually be curious, playful, atleast relieved from having to sit for the first few hours at the academy. His stride was certain, but not assertive, his eyes fixed on only one thing.  
The swing.   
The right one.  
His eyes, rimmed with black, rarely looked anywhere else. He ignored the glances he was given, the trembling his peers were displaying. He showed no interest in the game with the ball he did not know, or the laughter that still sounded strange to his ears. Yes, he was going to the swing. Then everything would be all right.  
They cleared the way for him; no one walked the path Gaara did. Only his footprints, worn away with wind and time, indented that stream of sand. It did not strike him odd this way, it has always been so. It was simply there; like gravity or the sky.  
Or the swing.  
The right one.  
He didn't question it like most children do; no, it was there, and that was good enough for him. It wasn't as if someone would answer him, anyway.  
His eyes didn't flicker with emotion as he became within a few yards from it. He still walked the same pace, never speeding up with uncontained anxiousness that most children held in their hearts when they saw a favorite play thing. He didn't slow to listen to the other's sounds as they played perhaps somewhat stupidly, or notice rain when clouds occasionally drew in.  
Carefully, he sat down onto the wooden swing, gripping the chain absently. It had rust, he observed, as a simple passing thought. He watched, as the other children talked and interacted with other children, their mouths upturned and their faces lively. No one was with him. His mouth did not smile so.  
It did not strike him as an odd thing, because it has always been so. His fellow students, they'll always be over there, away from him. It was as simple as that.  
Gaara watched blankly as the ball was kicked around, a popular habit he had grown accustomed to seeing. A glimpse of gratefulness passed through his neutral mind; the swing gave him a seat. A resting place so he wouldn't have to sit in the sand.  
He didn't like the sand very much.  
His fingers rubbed themselves against the cold metal, roughened by brownish rust that invested itself upon it like a parasite. The swing was old, he decided, another fleeting thought that only lasted for about a second.  
Of course, he did not wonder how old the swing actually was.  
The right one.  
He almost felt something when a girl cheered, having kicked the ball the farthest. It might've been Temari; she was blonde. He could almost twitch his mouth like hers.  
Almost.  
A kind of confusing gaping feeling took hold of him, as the distance between them and he seemed to make itself present. He reached his other hand and grabbed the other chain, so both hands were occupied. This side was smoother; it always was.  
That girl, she jumped up and down with joy, whileas the ball kept bouncing. Gaara followed it on it's journey, bouncing and leaping, each new bounce led to a lesser one. A small boy, an outline in his vision, knelt to catch it, and with his poor reflexes, missed, and it hit him in the nose.  
The first thing he did, that boy, was to stand up straight as if shocked, and rubbed his injury. Blood began to trickle out. Mostly boys crowded around in awe, whileas the girls ran for the teacher, shrieking as they went.  
Gaara felt his head tilt to the side. Pain was supposed to be there, like gravity, or the sky.  
But for him, for some reason he couldn't place, it wasn't there. He didn't know what it was or why it hurt. Whatever hurt felt like. And betraying his nature, he even wondered what it was like, to get hit in the face with a ball. To have that red liquid come out of him.  
Maybe that was why he was sitting on the swing.  
The right one.  
Maybe having that red liquid come out of you made you belong somehow. Made you more like other people. Why was that...?  
Gaara stood up. Recess was over.

Biting his lower lip with uncertainty, Gaara looked around. No one was around him. Carefully, he took out the red marker he had slipped into his pocket. Wearily keeping his eye on Yashamaru, who was teaching the class, he popped off the cap.  
He had seen them do it many times. Paper cuts, they called it, and in order to interrupt class, they went up and asked for a bandaid, the class grinning knowingly. Yashamaru would shake her head, smile, asked if it hurt, and gave them a band-aid as quickly as she could and sent them back to their seat.  
Underneath the table, hesitantly, he drew a horizontal line across the side of his hand, much to thick and uneven to be a paper cut. But he actually smiled, a little, pleased with what he had done. This new change of mood did not go unnoticed.  
What's the matter, Gaara? Yashamaru asked, noticing his off behavior. What was with his hands underneath the table? Gaara tried to look solemn, as most of them do.  
I-I got a paper cut. May I have a band-aid? Secretly, it gave him some tremendous power.  
To many, it was called hope.   
The whole room went silent. Whispers were hushed, the side conversations ended the second Gaara spoke. Everything seemed to freeze.  
Because everyone knew Gaara didn't get touched.  
Yashamaru's eyes softened, relaxed after first being widened.  
Come here.  
The boy practically jumped off of his stool. His footsteps seemed to echo as he makes his way down the isle, everyone who hasn't caught his glance staring at him. He held his hand out, proudly, almost to her desk. Wordlessly, he took his hand, instinctively hesitating. He smiled again, softly, as she discovered his She looked at him, at a loss for words.  
Does it...hurt, Gaara? She asked, her lip shaking. His eyes were becoming strangely wet. His eyes brightened; that's what he always asked. It had worked!  
Yes, ma'am. Because it would if he couldn't get one.  
With tear rimmed eyes Yashamaru gave him a band-aid.

At recess, Gaara took a path he had never walked before. Shyly, he made his way over to where the other's kicked the ball around. They were picking teams, he realized, and when he had made it over there, they were already split up into two separate groups.  
They all went quiet as Gaara stood in front of them, his bandaged hand out a little to make himself sure they could see it.  
Can I...play? That was what they called it, he was sure.  
Maybe he was wrong. Because they gave him that horrified, angry look everyone gave him.  
Get away from us, you monster!  
  
We didn't do anything to ya! Back off now!  
Run, c'mon guys, let's go somewhere else!  
He's so scary...  
It was kind of blurry what happened next. Gaara was so confused; he had gotten cut. He had bled. W-Why didn't they want to play with him? Why did they run away? What was wrong with him...?  
Through the unpredictable emotions that controlled him, the last thing he allowed himself to see was the sudden explosion of sand and screams, before tearing himself away and running.

Many students were absent the next day. Gaara did not question it, or consider what happened in his mind. He had adjusted to any changes such as these. Yashamaru wasn't teaching today, either; this he did not even realize. He was walking, not aware of the sand swirling around his feet, or the adults watching him intently. His sight was on the swings.  
The right one.  
It wasn't until he had gotten a few feet away that he realized the swing's rusty chain had broken.  
And, in all the things Gaara wouldn't do, he did; he quickened his pace. His eyes widened. His breath came in rasps.  
He reached the swing, it's seat dangling from the smoother chain in a twisted, vertical position. Something seemed to push itself up from inside of his stomach, and crawl out of his throat, sounding like a cry. A plea of helplessness.  
Like a defeated warrior, he fell to his knees and bowed his head.  
With shaking hands he reached out and grabbed the plank, the chain rattling as he clutched it close to his chest, his shoulders shuddering. He embraced it...yes, that was what he thought it was called. He cried.  
The swing had broken.  
The right one.  
And it would never come back.

**  
A/N**: Alright, this one was a little strange. It came out of nowhere, when I drew this picture of Gaara as a little kid, clutching a broken swing and crying. I thought, What would happen if that swing Gaara always sat on broke? When I saw the picture, which came out remarkable compared to what I thought it would turn out to be, I typed this.


	2. More

**More  
**

((A/N: An Ino/shika one-shot. I thank you for reading. Really.))

Naruto doesn't belong to me. Y'all know that.  
**  
**_It contributes greatly towards a man's moral and intellectual health, to be brought into habits of companionship with individuals unlike himself, who care little for his pursuits, and whose sphere and abilities he must go out of himself to appreciate.  
_- Nathaniel Hawthorne  
_  
_****

More 

Chouji is sick! Ino yelled, even though her informer was right next to her. Shikamaru winced before glaring at her.  
Do you have to be that loud about it? Geez...  
Yes, she did have to be loud about it. Because, she was stuck with Shikamaru. For about 25 minutes.  
Alone.  
Their soft footfalls on the cement were interrupted by Ino's indignant snap,  
Be grateful, Shikamaru! Plenty of guys would consider their selves lucky to be walking alone with me!  
He didn't reply, wondering briefly as his eyes flicked around the sidewalk if he should've brought ear plugs. Shoving his hands into his pockets in his trademark style, he slumped his shoulders and prepared for the worst this monster could do to him.  
After all, Ino was more irritable than usual. He didn't know why, but something about her presence today just screamed female anger. He wasn't going to ask her why; because he didn't care. The less that mouth of hers produced sound, the better. After all, he was going to be stuck with _Ino._ _The_ Ino Yamanaka.  
For 24 minutes and approximately 57 seconds.  
Alone.  
Shifting his mind to better things, Shikamaru did whatever he could _not _to look at her. Girls were a pain like that. Look at them, and they wonder why. Since when do you need a reason to _look_? Whatever...   
It really was a nice day. The sun drenched the ground in it's warmth, making the metal gleam like myka in rock. Shade splashed from overhanging trees, the two stepping in occasional pools of warm light.   
It was too bad this walk had to ruin it.  
Glancing over at his loud mouthed companion, it's not like he could help it. How could someone not look at her corn silk hair shimmer as she turned her head, absorbing everything she saw with those smokey jade eyes of hers?  
Ino had snagged his eyes.  
So, had he finally realized how sexy she really was? Really, what other possible reason could he be staring at her for? Was something on her face? Ino brushed her cheek over with the back of her hand casually. No -  
What pain this is going to be... He mumbled, jerking back his glance. Ino's eyebrow twitched.  
I heard that. He just shrugged, their steps falling into a companionable stride. Her lip kind of puffed out as she crossed her arms, giving up. Most normal people would've challenged her or atleast _reacted. _But, then again, Shikamaru wasn't exactly normal.  
You're no fun.  
I'm sorry. He drawled sarcastically, obviously not. Why did she always want attention?  
I'm so sick of your wise-ass comments! She stopped walking and jabbed her index finger in his face, her shoulders stiff with agitation. Shikamaru snickered ever so slightly; he could almost imagine fangs prodding from that obnoxious mouth of hers. From now on, don't say anything unless I tell you!  
I've said only one wise-ass comment.' He said pointedly, calmly removing her finger from it's place near his face.  
The slight touch caused Ino to snatch her finger away as if it had been burned, getting more angry. Shikamaru's eye roll didn't contribute to settling her temper, either.  
Women were such horrible creatures. Sighing, he waited as Ino's cheeks took on a crimson hue of fresh anger until she let out a groan blended with a cry and continued walking in a huff.  
Boys were such horrible creatures.  
But Sasuke-kun, she thought dreamily, relaxing a little. Sasuke-kun was a _man._  
Yeah, Shikamaru! Ino declared, causing some people to turn and stare. She spun around, the Nara clan member looking up at the sky absently, pretending Ino wasn't there. Hey, listen to me when I talk! She insisted, her hands settling on her hips.  
He stopped walking. He turned to face her. How did her voice grate just at the right pitch to get on his nerves?   
Is the sky really that much more interesting than me!  
Shikamaru choose carefully not to answer. Either way, the percentage of her completely snapping was 99.5.  
Fine then! Be an asshole! You know, we'd get along a whole lot better if you were more like Sasuke-kun!  
He should've known. When it came to Sasuke, Ino just lost it.  
So did he and his passive manner.  
Would you shut up about Sasuke? Your nagging isn't getting us anywhere-  
_Oh_, and staring at the sky all day will!  
...Let's just get going. He held his tongue, frowning as he turned away. It was way too troublesome to argue with Ino. You just didn't win. He might of been pissed off right now, but he wasn't stupid.  
Don't turn away you coward! Look at me when I talk! She yelped, but all of it sounded like a low hum to Shikamaru, who had mastered the art of selective hearing. Letting out a rather indelicate noise, she reached out her hand to grab his shoulder, when she stepped the wrong way.  
Ino fell, tugging Shikamaru down with her.

When Ino opened her eyes, they immediately shot towards her source of pain. Her ankle _looked _okay, but it didn't _feel _ okay. She groaned, and suddenly froze. Her foot, was beside another pair of feet. Not hers. Legs, were tangled together, with legs that weren't hers.  
And she was on top of a back, which grunted in pain as her elbow was jabbing into it, just underneath the shoulder blade.  
She was on top of a person.   
A boy.  
A boy that happened to be Nara Shikamaru.

Shikamaru felt his vein pop. This was exactly why walking with Ino was a bad idea. A very bad idea. Plotting how to kill his sensei would come after he could get up. Shifting a little so his chest was off the cool ground, he suddenly felt a moan and something that felt like an elbow jab into his back.  
Becoming acutely aware of her soft breasts pressing against his skin, the warmth her body radiated, and the way their legs were tangled was a bit too much for Shikamaru to handle all at once.  
He heard her gasp, and began to wriggle herself off of him.  
How troublesome... He groaned, because it was. It took him a second to sit up, and when he did, Ino was giving him an eat-shit-and-die' stare.  
But when their eyes locked for longer than two seconds, and her features softened, Shikamaru ran a hand through his pulled back hair and forced his gaze away gently. He had noticed, however, how she clutched her right ankle tenderly.  
My ankle, caused me to fall. She offered lamely, her anger dim at the moment. Shikamaru slipped his hand over his face lazily, so she couldn't see his smirk. That was just like Ino, not to say sorry. A pause seemed to make itself present, dripping with everything but unease.  
Well, aren't you gonna help me up? Ino asked, feeling strangely helpless. Shikamaru removed his hand, simultaneous with the arc of his eyebrow. Sighing, and muttering something about how troublesome girls, ankles, and life in general was, worked himself vertical and reached out a hand unenthusiastically.  
What? I don't have all day. He remarked, noticing his hand had not been taken.  
She agreed, and grasped his hand firmly, finding it larger than hers. Shikamaru's eyes widened, pulling her up with more care than he initially intended. Her hand was so soft and smooth, except for the flesh above her palms, calloused lightly from training. Her slender fingers gave more power than they appeared, gripping his hand tightly. He realized with terror he would memorize her touch, and it lingered with him even though he had let go.  
What the hell... He rubbed his forehead, forgetting Ino for the moment, and looking for consolance from the sky.  
She snapped, destroying her altered version in the boy's head. She was tottering, one foot in the air. Shikamaru glanced at her, off balance with her face red in embarrassment. So, he did the only thing he found suited to do;  
He laughed.  
Shut up and help me already! She shrieked, bunching her hand into a fist.  
He smirked as he added silently, cripple.' Walking over to her, he stood, a bit dumbfounded.  
Don't just stand there. She nagged. The rest Shikamaru chose not to catch. Ino noticed this and if it weren't for her ankle- You're going to have to carry me.  
No reply.  
Shika! Shikamaru!  
  
_You're_ going to have to carry _me_. Ino explained fiercely, trying to glare at him. His eyes kept avoiding hers.  
No way. He replied bluntly, scratching his head.  
  
Shikamaru flinched; his precious hearing was at stake. For about two minutes Ino droned on loudly about how he should carry her and how it was the manly thing to do and all these other reasons her companion couldn't care for. After she was out of breath, and about to draw another one, he spoke,  
Why can't you stay here, I'll go get Asuma Sensei, and _he _can carry you back.  
Ino considered, weighing the options in her mind. Her eye lids lowered,  
You honestly think Asuma Sensei will come out here for me?  
Damn. He was hoping she wouldn't think of that. Despite of how she acted, she wasn't that stupid.  
She just lacked intricate knowledge.  
The silence that ensued told Ino she had caught him. Ha, did he really think she'd be that stupid? Shikamaru might've had an IQ of 200 or whatever, but;  
He really lacked common sense.  
The scowl on his face was priceless, and you could tell he was grinding his teeth behind his closed lips. This she found secretly amusing.   
Shikamaru spat, rubbing his temple. Get on before I change my mind. You're such a pain.  
Hey, you think I like this! She latched her hands unto his shoulders, causing him to shudder ever so slightly. He had memorized her hands. He had he had he had-  
Hurry up. He hissed, bending over a little. Anything to keep her moving. She rolled her eyes and awkwardly lifted one leg to the curve of his rib cage.  
Both of them flung their faces away from the other, fearing the other would see the blush that accessorized their cheeks.  
It's sun burn, Shikamaru rationalized, as he hooked his arm under her knee, brushing the slip of skin that was exposed around her thigh. It was only sun burn.  
With a final grunt she was completely on his back, and the boy stumbled to the side a bit, taken aback with her weight. Or by just her.  
Men weren't supposed to be weak, they were supposed to carry women with ease like in those movies, Ino reasoned, biting her lip. She felt him take a deep breath, steady himself, and trudge foreword.  
Of course, Shikamaru_ was_ just a boy.  
Ino had her head craned back, as to not make any extra contact, but about now in the thick silence, her neck was cramping awfully bad. She gnawed her lip in irritation.  
Meanwhile, the youngest Nara member's eyebrow twitched, his jaw set firmly. He had tried to keep Ino metaphorically off his back, but now, literally, she was on it. And she just happened to be warm and soft and clinging to him.  
He felt embarrassed, he felt tired, he felt annoyed, he felt angry, and yet...amongst his hatred to the world, it only took a slight shift in her body as she moved to perhaps scratch an itch, he felt almost...   
He whispered, hoping it would sound like his last sarcastic remark. What was he thinking? Of course it was...it was, really. He began, his pupils darting to the eyes' corners. Ino had settled her head on her forearm, which was on his shoulder, very near to his face. It made him nervous, to say the least.  
Wha-Shika look out! She yelled, suddenly yanking on his ponytail with her free hand. Hard.  
His hands flew instinctively to his head, then his eyes widened, viewing a telephone pole inches from him. Swerving to the right sharply, he stumbled around, noting that Ino had yet to let go of his hair, which was hurting his scalp profusely. On top of that, her un secured legs had curled around his torso, and she was making him lean backward. Let go, damnit!  
She would let go if he would grab her legs, which were being in danger of hitting the ground. The ground meant pain. And now the world was tipping as Shikamaru struggled to gain his balance.  
The fence seemed to come out of nowhere.  
It still amazed Ino that something so big could have become invisible moments before.  
I'll let go when - AH!  
Bam.  
Shikamaru had slammed into the fence, slamming Ino's right, bad ankle along with it. In a moment of stillness and deafening silence, she let go completely, eyes shut with pain as she landed on her back with a quiet, shattering thud.  
It hurt, was all Ino could think. Because it did. Badly.  
It took a moment for Shikamaru to register what was happening, but he did so as he found himself kneeling on the ground, looking her over. It hurt her, no matter how hard she tried to conceal it. Badly.  
Ino. Ino. He repeated, tapping her forehead. She couldn't be unconscious. What would he do then?  
She murmured weakly, her eyes opening into slits. Her hopeful face fell. Oh...it's just you. She drew a quick breath in, flinching a bit. Shikamaru held his tongue. I hit my head... Ino trailed off, blinking her eyes in an attempt to see clearly.  
He agreed, and they both smiled at the same exact instant, thinking the exact same thing as they locked gazes.  
That's just like him, Ino began-  
Not to say sorry, Shikamaru finished mentally, letting his smile linger on his lips.  
They froze like that, caught by some unexplainable connection with that same thought and warm feeling. Until the moment wore off. How did it wear off? Well...  
Ino began to rant.  
How could you do something like that! Bringing someone as sexy as myself into this much pain! You're so weak, Shika!  
He replied, watching her sit up and rub her head.  
And another thing; watch where you walk! Are you that lazy to not even see _a fence! A fence! _ She sighed, shaking her head. Her lip trembled.  
Oh god, he didn't think she'd actually cry. Ino never cries. What was he supposed to do...? His heart fluttered, shaking his head and jerking it to anywhere but her.  
She was stuttering, not sure if she should say anything. He wouldn't care, right?  
You...don't have to explain it. I don't care and I won't listen about whatever made you upset, so...it'd be easier for both of us if you'd just shut up and not cry.   
With a grunt he stood up, more than tempted to shove his hands into his pockets. Instead, with a look he was famous for, he offered one to her.  
Ino looked up at him, trying to read his expression. One side of her was pissed off about him telling her to shut up' but on the other hand...he was, in his weird way, comforting her. Or maybe she was giving him to much credit.  
You're such an ass. She told him, as he eased her onto his back. Not as uneasy, he headed foreword, his brow wrinkling as he thought of how late he was going to be. After all, Ino would blame it on him, and of course, he would be the one to do the laps.  
Sighing, he was reminded (again) of how troublesome Ino really was.  
Asuma Sensei! Ino exclaimed, making Shikamaru jump. Indeed, his instructor was leaning casually against the fence, cigarette tucked between his lips. Come on, pick it up. She ordered. What did he look like, a horse?  
He made it over to Asuma eventually, who looked rather bemused with twinkling dark eyes. He inquired,  
What happened here?  
Ino and Shikamaru both looked at each other quickly, then glanced in the opposite direction.  
I think I broke my ankle. She volunteered. Shikamaru rolled his eyes.  
You twisted it, in the least. Man, women milk their wounds.  
In response, he got a yank of his ponytail. Ow! Geez...  
I can take her, Shikamaru, if you're getting tired.I noticed you guys were late... Asuma offered, not really planning to carry her at all. What if...  
Bah, whatever. Let's just keep walking. And he did, despite of the dropped jaws they were sending him. Asuma smirked, and nodded,  
I'll meet you there. He was gone as quickly as he had come. True to his nature, he really was going to bump into Kureina _accidentally _on his way there. That was, really, the only reason he had seen his students in the first place.  
It took Ino a second,  
Shika... why didn't you-  
He threw a sidelong look at her, and then shook his head. It was hopeless. But he had to say it anyway. She would nag him and nag him until he did, so he might as well get it over with. I like...being with you, Ino...even if Sasuke doesn't. Turning his vision back to the road, he frowned. That sounded bad out loud, and it didn't make any sense. He shouldn't of said anything after all. What a pain.  
Ino's wide eyes relaxed after a few steps, wondering how he could tell her problem had been just that. Carefully, she smiled, closing her arms tighter around his neck. She didn't suspect he liked her like that, no, she didn't think he thought she was pretty or whatever.  
After all, he still was _just_ a boy.  
But he was more of a man than anyone could ever be.


	3. Echoes

**Echoes**

((A/N: all right, this...I had no idea where this came from. This is a Sasuke centered fic, with an almost empty feeling of angst to it.))

(Thank you x 1,000,000,000,etc. for reading and reviewing. I am very open to suggestions, as I encourage them. I will try anything.)

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Naruto. I've run out of smart ass remarks for disclaimers, so...  
**  
**_You got to hide, and then everyone looks for you, and when they find you, they hide too...And you're passing them all and looking in all the laundry places and shit, and it's a big game, and people keep giggling, and then you don't see them again. Then you're walking around alone...there's this wierd moment that you realize you're alone...You realize at that moment, the exact moment...it's already over. You're walking, and everything's empty, but the wierdest thing is that it's not empty at all. The wierdest thing is that you're more alone than anyone, but that more people are thinking about you than ever before._  
- _Titus_, from _Feed_, by _M.T Anderson_ ****

Echoes  
  
Something was different. Changed.  
He couldn't even bring himself to glance backward.  
That's what Sasuke thought, as he faced the empty streets of Kohona, sakura blossoms tumbling through the air before landing on the ground. They were the only thing that were in color. Narrowing his eyes, he took a step, finding it didn't echo despite of how hollow this place seemed.  
Somehow, he couldn't look back. An impending fear, like a calm before the storm, made him pick his pace into a run.  
No one was around, it was like the village had died. No smells of food, flowers, people, anything. No warm sounds, no sounds of children laughing or screaming, adults scolding or talking, Naruto yelling in that loud, irritating, stupid voice of his.  
Naruto...surely he must be here. A sort of urgency took hold of him, like a knot in his chest. He knew it was fear.  
No one said he had to admit it.  
So with soundless footsteps he tore his way, almost desperately, through black and white streets and buildings. It was creepy, and Sasuke didn't like it. Somehow, finding Naruto would make everything normal. Make this dark Kohona right again. He ran a hand through his hair, finding a petal caught between the strands.  
He stopped, and looked at it in his palm, the pink almost stinging his eyes. He held unto it, closing his hand to a fist. So far, Naruto was nowhere to be found. There was still one place.  
Not daring to look back, he gritted his teeth, willing himself to speed up. He reached the forest, and took to the tree's branches.  
His eyes widened; all of the trees were dead, skeletons with bare branches that raked the skin if one wasn't careful. He leapt through them quickly, feeling like an outcast to their once welcome bark. It was terrifying, in some way Sasuke couldn't place, looking up to see their twisted forked ends at the gray sky. He kept moving, and when he found that bastard he'd tell him what was going on.  
What he had remembered as the glistening, sparkling river had dried into a messy stream of dry soil, the bank no longer lush. What used to be the bridge Kakashi used to make them wait on with solid boards and light red rails was rickety, and missing wood. Sasuke stopped dead, and closed his eyes, willing the scene away. He recalled hearing Sakura's and Naruto's annoying, simultaneous,  
_YOU'RE LATE!  
_And Naruto...what did he say every day...?  
_Good morning, Sakura-chaaaaan!_ _  
_Sakura...surely she was here...maybe at her house...Naruto may have left, but Sakura wouldn't.  
Opening his eyes, he frowned. He'd have to travel back through that forest.  
And he did, as fast as he could. Nothing made sense. Petals still flitted through the air, blurry at his top speed. He clutched his own in his hand, his brow furrowing. This felt to real to be a dream, and yet...  
He reached the village, the one he called home. It didn't look like home to him. Home was when he heard Naruto being shot down by Sakura, who had no interest in training with him. Home was when he'd feel satisfaction after a long day, with barely the energy to walk home, the sunset glowing over the fences that disgrace to Hokage kid followed Naruto around would hide beside. Home was when sometimes, very rarely, Kakashi would put away his book to look him in the eye and tell him what he couldn't do in a light tone that no one could mimick.  
_Hell no!  
B-But Sakura-chan...  
I'd be much better off with Sasuke-kun...  
No. You're weaker than Naruto. Get stronger and you won't waste my time.  
...My, teamwork _has _been suffering...  
You _always_ say that...  
Do I really...?  
  
Hey! Hey! Hey! Naruto Nee-chaaaan! _   
Sakura was a smart girl. She'd explain what happened.  
Sasuke felt his throat seem to close up as he reached her door, the pink blossoms wisping by in a hypnotic way. He knocked, and didn't hear an echo or anyone answer. After a second or so, he opened the door, and looked around. Her room was upstairs, that he knew. Her house...it looked...so empty. A chill went down his spine as he climbed the stairs, which did not acknowledge his weight. Everything was darker, like someone dimmed everything. Maybe it was him.  
Or maybe it was why he didn't look back to whatever waited behind him, like a nightmarish blackness ready to spring that terrified him so.  
Somehow, he knew which room was hers, despite the fact he had never been inside of her home.  
Clicking open the doorknob, he opened the door carefully, a sort of tension running through him. If she wasn't here...  
But she was. He walked in, to find her on the ground, her pink hair somehow breaking through the dimness, black and white. Her shoulders were hunched forward and shuddering, her legs sprawled to each side. Sasuke's eyes widened, and he reached out to touch her, but she recoiled, almost flinched. He pulled back, confused. Walking around, he turned to look her in face, when he took a step back.  
He wanted to leave, he really did, but he feared whatever was behind him far too greatly.   
She was crying, the tears like a river that no longer existed here. Her eyes were narrowed with such pain, the green bright and alien to his colorless world. Her fists were clenched as she held a picture, now wet due to the storm in her eyes.  
Sasuke glanced at it, and saw it was that picture of Team 7. At the time, Sasuke thought it was a bit stupid, seeing as he wasn't exactly a picture person.  
But looking at Sakura so upset, something curled tighter in his stomach. Cement came to mind. He went to ask her, What's going on- but was cut off as she screamed, a deafening sound, the first ever.  
She managed through sobs, pulling her hair absently with one hand, digging into her skull. Sasuke just stared; overwhelmed. Why did you have to leave, Sasuke! YOU TOOK _EVERYTHING_! You even...you even took Kakashi... She chocked. Naruto away...w-why did you leave me? She let out another horrific cry as she gathered the picture in her hands, then...  
She tore it to pieces.  
A moment of silence, of stillness, was born. A moment in which time stopped, and so did his heartbeat.  
But moments can like these can only last so long, as with life, time moves on. And Sakura, her heart wrenched with pain, made a clumsy grab for the pieces of the picture and held them to her chest, weeping harder than before. She had fallen, and for the first time, no one was there to help her up.  
He whispered. At first, it seemed she didn't hear him. But then, she looked up at him through bloodshot emerald eyes, her face smudged with water, her breath coming in heavy rasps.  
  
  
  
Sasuke was shoved roughly out of his sleep. He gasped, and looked up, to find Orochimaru standing over him. Sweat beaded his face, which he brushed off quickly. Orochimaru didn't like weakness. We have work to do... The man smiled, eerily snake-like, before he walked away, expecting Sasuke to follow.  
He ran a hand through his hair as he stood up, finding a petal there. He shook his head. It was just a dream. Just a dream...  
As he followed that Sannin through the dense forest, pink petals, long dead, covered the ground.  
And Sasuke kept walking, to terrified to ever look back.


	4. Hopeless

**Hopeless**

**((A/N**: Okay, I have started on the Tsunade fic Sariachan-A Kokiri Leaf gave me the idea/suggestion for,(extra shout-out to ya, thank you!) but I just HAD to write this one. It's been cloudy here lately, and after watching Naruto, I realized that it was almost the Hyuuga eye color...and this came from it. It's short, I know, but the next will be longer...much...promise. Thanks for reading and reveiwing, I'm forever grateful.  
**  
Disclaimer**: I don't anything of or relating to Naruto. I'm still not sure why we have to do disclaimers, since this is **  
**_We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures. _ -Thornton Wilder  
****

Hopeless

She was hopeless, she realized, as she took another jab at the sparring post.  
The sky had clouded over to a dull gray, one in which only gave you headache, promising rain but holding back, as if something besides Mother Nature kept it there. Sweat trickled down her brow as she let out another, hitting the post with whatever she had left.  
Hinata wasn't sure if she had anything left.  
Another cut from her right hand ensured her, that yes, she did have some more.  
She found herself wishing desperately that it would rain. For she was in the Hyuuga backyard, and despite all of it's acres, there was only one sparring center used for training.  
Any second now- - Neji would show up.  
Neji...the way he looked at you, the way he pried into your mind...that was truly terrifying.  
  
A flicker of a smile graced Hinata's features. Naruto hadn't been afraid.  
That's right...it wasn't completely hopeless. Because that's exactly what she had.  
Hope, that was...  
A sound. Hinata stopped in mid-swing, her eyes wide. He was practically here. She couldn't bear facing him...her hands started to tremble, but it was not due to exhaustion. Her head whipped around, looking for an escape.  
Tree! Yes, a tree...she leapt into it swiftly, perching herself on a thick branch and resting her heaving torso against the trunk. He might see her, he might not; with his incredible vision it wouldn't be hard. Maybe, she thought, gulping, he would just ignore her.  
It seemed, however, Neji wasn't exactly the type to ignore anything.  
Every detail seemed to filter through his brain, calculating it and analyzing it. It was foolish of her to think she could withstand that, especially due to the fact her heart was weakened, probably permanently. She-  
She held her breath, her hands flying instinctively to her quivering mouth. He was down below her, and the way the tree branches arced so she could see him, his rich dark hair flowing down his back to the only current but his strong shoulder blades.  
It was unusual for him to _just _spar. Apparently, though, that was what he was doing.  
Daring herself to keep her eyes trained on him, she studied him carefully. Quick glances were what she typically allowed herself to steal; not that, most of the time, she wanted to look. A part of her, a very small part of her, was curious as to what made him so fearsome.  
His very presence seemed to weaken the knees of her family, and his.  
Not that, the two were really separate...  
Sure, he had striking features and confidence that radiated from his body like Akamaru's odor; but what was it, really?  
And where were his teammates, anyway? Sure, hers weren't here, but that's because Akamaru was sick, and Shino was still recovering. Kurenai was too busy with everything going on, and Hinata would've helped, she would've! - If it hadn't been for her father, who insisted that she trained a few hours a day first.  
Not daring to look around, her eyes settled back on him again, his strikes quiet and smooth, not a sound uttered from his lips.  
Maybe he scared his teammates, as well.  
It was strange, what power did to people. That was why, Hinata supposed, she didn't like having too much of it. But she was hopeless;  
Hinata was destined to become the head of the Hyuuga family, regardless of her will.  
Even if Neji was better than her, and he clearly was, he was destined...  
Her eyes went softer, and her fist clenched; only in the slightest. Surely, her father would see Neji as a threat to her, and...and...  
He would die.  
It wasn't as if Hinata really liked him, no...if anything, the only thing she had for him was respect. But that respect could really be blurred with fear, once she thought about it.  
Suddenly, something came to mind. Surely, Neji must know this. Even now, as he fought silently with a blank expression, he must realize this. Yet he still continued to get stronger, still continued to spread that dominating air about him, making him more vulnerable to death at the same time.  
How could he live...when he was told he was going to die?  
_He couldn't...could he?_  
But that's not what made the single tear slip down Hinata's cheek, her mouth suddenly going dry with more than just awe for her cousin.   
The sad thing was, he was going to die...he was going to die for no one...  
He was going to die alone.  
No one would miss him, his existence would be that of only a distant memory, like the sunshine behind the clouds. Because he was so terrifying...  
No, she realized, holding her breath as he paused. It was _he _who was hopeless.  
He was hopeless because of _her_.  
And that made her cry harder as he looked up at her passively, meeting her eyes for only a brief second, and walking away.  
That's right, _he knew.  
He knew. _  
I'll m-miss you... She choked, much to soft for him to ever hear.  
And he kept walking as it began to pour.


	5. Hunger

**Hunger**

**A/N**: Wow. This came out...messed up. Much like Tsunade's state of mind. I had to remember what it was like to grieve, and thus this short fic took awhile because of that. I'm still uneasy if it's complete or not. This takes place right after Dan dies, so take that into consideration. I hope this doesn't disappoint, and as always, thank you so much for reading and more so for reviewing.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Naruto. But now, Shopro does...gripes

_You've always gotta be there, can't you get it? If you're not them who am I?Pain is only bearable if we know it will end, not if we deny it exists.  
-_Viktor Frankl

**Hunger**

She didn't know how many minutes had passed.  
Or how many hours...  
How many days...  
It was strange, how she drifted in and out of sleep, flung unto a mattress that didn't deserve a bed, in a position one would usually find uncomfortable. Right now, Tsunade awoke groggily, her eyes bloodshot and her cheeks dirtied from tears that only came when she slept. When she was awake, she felt too numb to do anything but stare at the white, bare walls.  
She didn't care anymore. And she was so tired. So sick and tired of everything.  
Tsunade couldn't move. She didn't want to move.  
So she didn't.  
Everything began to slow down, so hours stretched into what seemed like days, and the Sannin didn't want to do anything more than let the white walls consume her mind, flush it out and cling to it's surface, and then maybe...  
Maybe she'd stop crying.  
It didn't occur to her that she didn't even have the energy to do that.  
Her head contained this dull ache, and she didn't have the enthusiasm to figure out it was because she had not eaten or drunk anything since she got here.  
Wherever here was...  
Her arm she was half on top of had gone to sleep, and tingling sensation running throughout it.  
But her eyes, unfocused, stared blankly at the white walls.  
Atleast they weren't red...  
The color of blood...  
Blood...  
It was on her hands, she could smell it, it was all over him...all over him...  
Over them...  
Her brother...oh god her brother...  
The white was like an easel, painting a picture in her head.  
Already the image was blurry.  
_Becoming Hokage is my dream!  
But I _am _a man!  
Hey, Sis, wait up!  
_He was there, grinning like an idiot. He was sitting on a bench, already eating the chicken that was supposed to be for dinner. She was present, scolding him. Why did she scold him like that...? Dinner...  
Food...what did that feel like?  
Nawaki liked it, he liked it a lot...And when she said a lot, she meant it.  
The pictures, faster than blinks, spun through her head, getting dimmer and unclear as they kept reeling, slipping through her fingers like kite string.  
But he couldn't leave her. Not now. Not now.  
His back. He was leaving. He was...he was...  
_What are you doing, out here all alone?  
To protect everyone...Becoming Hokage is my dream.  
  
_Dan...He used to put his arm around her, in that meadow on the outskirts of the forest.  
Trees...  
And his silver hair would tickle her face when the wind blew, and she'd laugh a little. But his face...it was darkened, why was it? She wanted to remember him, remember his eyes and his lips and his voice, speaking to her softly.  
She would wish she could hear it, if she had the energy. She missed it...  
But...why? Nawaki...Dan...they didn't do anything wrong.  
Nothing...  
And here she was, doing nothing. She was dying. And why!  
Tsunade suddenly felt a flicker of emotion well up inside her, and her grip on the mattress tightened.  
They were...they were...they were dead.  
Dead.  
_I love you so much Sis!  
Tsunade...I love you.  
What do you mean, I can't go outside and train? I can't get stronger by CLEANING!  
I'll walk you home.  
_Dead.  
They were her life. Her life. Then what was she...? Why was she still here?  
Why!  
_Don't worry about me, heh...  
It's fine, don't concern yourself so much...  
_She would cry. But somehow, she couldn't. Her eyes were dry. All that came out was a small, pathetic chocking noise.  
She should've died with them. She shouldn't have been there, in some forsaken room with a mattress.   
In a daze, she sat up, her mind awhirl. Head rush made her dizzy. But she didn't care.  
Tsunade bit into her forearm, the dots still dancing in front of her eyes. Blood dripped out, and fear seized her heart and made it beat faster.  
The blood...  
Her eyes went wide in total panic, and she slammed her arm against the wall, staining the white as the red dribbled down it's surface.  
Afraid, she was...afraid...afriad of the very thing that Dan and Nawaki did not have in the end.  
She hit her head against the wall, the dull ache in her head becoming a roar. Pain...so much pain...blood...  
Trees...  
Silver...  
His eyes...she couldn't remember what color they were.  
White...  
No...no...they weren't...she couldn't...  
She grabbed the mattress easily with her strength and flung it to God knew where, not wanting to hear the thud as it landed.  
She was too exhausted.  
Tsunade collapsed onto the cold floor, onto her side, her bleeding forearm a little bit away from her face.  
She would let the white consume her, kill her pain and sorrow and life.  
Tsunade came to a realization, a landmark with her hollow conscience.   
She was...hungry.   
And the white wall was stained with red.


	6. Hollow

**Hollow**

**((A/N**: I hope you understand this short one better than I do, XD. Time frame is some time after when Naruto returns, and I'm going to assume in this fic Sasuke doesn't go with him. Thanks again for reading and more so for reviewing.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Naruto. Go ahead and party.

_Did you tackle that trouble that came your way  
With a resolute heart and cheerful?  
Or did you hide your face in the light of day  
With a craven soul and fearful?  
Oh, a trouble's a ton, a trouble's an ounce  
Or a trouble is what you make it.  
And it isn't the fact that you're hurt that counts,  
But only how did you take it?  
_- _A piece of the poem_, How Did You Die? _by_: Edmund Cooke

**Hollow**

Things were complex at the moment, to say the least.  
Sakura decided that doing something simple, like taking a walk with Naruto, would be simple.  
It wasn't.  
So as they strolled out of the woods, wordless with the complexity that wieghed down their shoulders and clouded their heads, Naruto was naturally the first to mention anything.  
It's the bridge... He trailled off, his eyes only able to be compared with the brillant sky that hung above them like a warm blanket. Sakura gave him side long glance, her eyes brightening with the coming to reality, and gave a small gasp when she looked over at the planks of wood over the stream that wasn't supposed to mean much.  
But did, anyway.  
And it never looked more empty to her.  
She agreed, wondering why she was here and why, more importantly, why she was here with Naruto. It was like they were on some date.  
Which they weren't.  
But the other was blushing everytime he locked eyes with her, in which it was pretty obvious he thought they were.  
They continued walking, as if the thuds of their feet would make up for the loss of conversation.  
Without speaking, their footsteps became somehow hollow as they reached the peak of the bridge, and with a small sound Naruto hoisted himself unto the red railing that kept a portion of the population from falling into the sparkling river. Such is a river most would admire.  
Naruto chose instead to admire Sakura, who placed herself a little bit away from him, but leaned against the railing, different from Naruto because she was facing the river, unlike his back, which was too it. Her face, still a creamy shade even after everything they've been through in the sun, sunk into her arms which crossed against the metal in a rather depressing manner.  
His eyes lowered a bit, before he tore his gaze away and looked at the sky absently, only to glance at her again. Why were they here, and together, when she didn't want to say anything?  
Do you remember, when we'd all get here to train, or do a mission...? She asked suddenly, softly, which took him off gaurd. He smiled, half of it feigned.  
Yeah! And Kakashi-Sensei would always show up way late, and we'd yell at him.  
We annoyed Sasuke, everytime... She said again, in that same tone. He went stiff, at first, and forced the thought of Sasuke out of his mind. He had to. He had to, atleast, be strong for Sakura-Chan. He hated how sad she was, how pain was reflected in those eyes every day. He grinned again.  
Y-you never annoyed me, Sakura-Chan. Naruto waited for a response, but didn't get one. He stuided her closely - it was effortless. Finally, his already short patience wore thin.   
I miss him. She answered bluntly, for the first time looking at him. She picked her head out of her arms, and smiled sadly, the ends of her mouth twitching. Water was rushing over the rocks in the river. She gave a depressing, and distrubing laugh. Isn't that...isn't that funny? M-missing someone when they've...they've...  
Naruto, alarmed, slid off the railing, and shook his head, his stomach squeezed by steel.  
No...it's not. He told her, quietly, and if anything, made Sakura notice his change of tone. She turned and faced him, her mouth still quivering, tears rimming the edges of her eyes.  
She always, secretly, liked his.   
I miss him...I need... She repeated, taking a step closer. Too close. Over his heartbeat, raging, he could focus and see each of her eyelashes, surronding her glassy eyes and he just noticed how soft her lips looked.  
How he wanted...  
But her eyes, they were seeing past him. They weren't seeing him. Not him.   
But he...  
His own lip quivered dangerously, with anger towards a certain dark haired person, with compassion towards Sakura, with confusion that wellled inside him like a swollen blister about to burst...  
He couldn't hear what she whispered over his pounding heart, if she even said anything at all. He didn't care. He couldn't. He had to be strong for Sakura-Chan. He had to. Because with Sasuke gone...who else could?  
His arms, hesitant, raised up a little, so they were even with the space above her hips. But, suddenly, she dashed forward, and kissed him. Hard.   
Naruto eyes went wide, and he took a step back, before he accepted and kissed her back, the lip lock awkward but there, his hand finding the curve of her back and holding her closer, despite the mixture of emotions whirling inside him.  
Tears streamed down both their cheeks, making her velvet lips taste salty. Sakura tried to not think at all, and especially not of him. Of Sasuke.  
And Naruto cried, if just a little, because he knew she was.


End file.
